


Closet Hostage

by paynesgrey



Category: Ouran Highschool Host Club
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-22
Updated: 2007-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renge's plan goes awry, and suddenly she's trapped in a closet with Kyouya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closet Hostage

Soft footsteps were heard coming toward her behind the door. Renge grinned.

Everything was going exactly as planned.

She huddled in the closet, and her attention snapped alive as the door creaked open. Before her intended victim could speak, Renge jumped, snatching him and pulling him against her in the closet. She swiftly slammed the door and stopped his inevitable protests with a quick kiss.

She cooed, "I've got you now, Mori-kun." Her voice came out in a purr, and when her hostage cleared his throat, she felt as though ice water was thrown over her head.

Something wasn't right. The voice certainly did not belong to Mori.

She looked up, blinking, and caught a small reflection against glasses from the light coming from a crack in the door.

"Ah! You!" she accused roughly, pushing him away from her. "What are you doing here? You're not Mori-kun."

She guessed that Kyouya was smirking at her sadistically, even in the dark. "Ah, so Mori-senpai is your obsession this week. I should have guessed by the cryptic note you left, detailing how you had baked him a cake and stored it in the closet." Renge felt his warm breath trace the shell of her ear. "Tell me, Renge-chan, what fantasy character does Mori-senpai seem like this time?"

"Shut up, jerk!" She slammed her finger into his chest. "It's none of your business. How dare you ruin my perfect plan to catch Mori-kun. You're supposed to be in calculus class right now, and Mori-kun should be here during a free period." She sighed deeply, feeling embarrassment rise to her cheeks. "The plan was supposed to be _flawless_."

Kyouya lifted his arm, and it brushed against hers. Renge guessed that he as rubbing his chin thoughtfully, just as usual. She pouted as he spoke. "Ah, that would throw a wrench in your plans. I gave Mori-senpai an errand today during his free period; that's why he never came to the Music Room."

She poked her finger into his chest again. "That still doesn't explain why _you_ are here."

She felt her personal space compromised again. He whispered softly to her, "Easy. I skipped, and the prospect of cake sounded tasty."

Renge felt her cheeks turn hot. "Jerk," she spat, and her voice shook with defeat. "You ruined everything."

"There, there," Kyouya soothed, patting her shoulder. Renge sighed lightly, feeling oddly at ease from his touch. She shook her head, trying to remain angry with him. It wasn't hard though, especially when Kyouya blandly asked, "So where is this cake?"

Renge gasped, wondering if Kyouya even cared about ruining her plans at all. _He doesn't,_ she thought automatically. She bit on her lower lip and glared at him in the dark. _He only cared about the cake._

"There isn't any. That was a rouse," she admitted. She leaned back, sitting down against the wall of the closet and hugging her knees.

"Interesting," Kyouya said. Renge looked up, and she could make out a gray blob of Kyouya in the dark closet. There was a glint of a reflection on his glasses again. "Am I to assume you were to be the cake?"

Renge growled. "None of your business. It's ruined, so it doesn't matter." She chuckled lightly, and she slammed her fist into her palm. "I'll just have to try again tomorrow." She pointed a finger at his shadowy blob. "And you better not interfere! You will make sure that Mori-kun comes to this room during his free period, do you understand?"

Kyouya chuckled, which angered her even more. "Testy, testy. I will give you credit, Renge-chan. You are a hard-working and intimidating manager; however, you must know by now that you cannot influence me."

Renge sprung to her heels. She could feel his hot breath again, and she smirked. "Oh, you think so?" She pushed him against the closet door, feeling in control as Kyouya went stiff to her touch. "I'll hurt you so bad."

She heard him inhale with surprise, and she was so close to him that she could see his lips turning into a smile. "Hrmm... what a tempting threat."

"Don't play! I won't play with you," she said gruffly, backing down and glaring at him through the dark. She crossed her arms in a huff.

"But Renge-chan, I thought you were fond of games." It was Kyouya’s turn to push her into the wall of the closet, hovering over her. "I guess that's one thing we have in common."

Renge's voice came out in a hiss. "We like different kinds of games, Kyouya; you know that." And disappointment washed over her. She remembered the first time she met him. He was her fantasy, an unreachable perfection that soon fleshed to life. She remembered when she wanted him, but now... she thought so differently of him.

Sure, he was different, but was he so bad? Maybe her thoughts toward Mori-kun were just a dumb fantasy too. Renge knew this, and like always, reality spoiled everything. Reality revealed what her mind didn't want to see. And then she would stop playing. There were new games to explore, and getting trapped in the closet with Kyouya was definitely a game she'd never played before.

And since this was Ootori Kyouya, the stakes of the game were just a bit scarier than usual.

"If we're finished here, Renge-chan, I suggest you give me the key to open this door."

Renge let out a guffaw. "Too bad I didn't bring the key."

Renge heard Kyouya body weight against the closet door. "I see. So how did you intend to get out when it was supposed to be Mori-kun in here and not me?"

"Well, according to the plan, after Mori-kun's free period, Haruhi-kun's starts, and he always comes into the Music Room and stores his books in this very closet. I was hoping he’d find us and open the door."

"A master of observation," Kyouya complimented.

"Of course," Renge affirmed proudly. Her mood turned suddenly. "Hey, stop that, Kyouya-senpai." She gave him a light whack on the chest.

"Stop what?" Yes, he was still playing.

"Complimenting me. It's ... weird." She harrumphed.

"Maybe weird to you, but it's true. I would not have tolerated you as manager if I didn't think you were capable of it," he said, pausing. Levity filled his voice again. "And, if you didn't amuse us."

"Ha ha, I'm the comedic relief."

"Sometimes, but you might have to compete for Tamaki for that title," Kyouya joked.

Renge snorted. "No, thanks. He can keep it."

Kyouya changed the subject after some silence. "Since we're going to be in here for a few more minutes until Haruhi comes, tell me something."

"Hrmm?" Renge said, sighing with obvious boredom. She sat on the floor again, hugging her knees. In seconds, Kyouya followed her and moved to sit next to her. Renge shifted uncomfortably at his nearness. She hated to admit there was something oddly calming about Kyouya presence, when he wasn't scheming of course.

"Are you still going to pursue Mori-kun after this? I think you're wasting your time," Kyouya said placidly.

Renge squealed in protest. "None of your business! I'll do what I want!"

"Ah, what if I warn him ahead of time..."

"You wouldn't!" she yelled, and she turned to him, beating her fists on his chest. He made a noise of discomfort, and she backed off when she realized that she didn't intend to hurt him. He grabbed her arms, and quickly, she was leaning into his lap. She froze, feeling the heat return to her cheeks. _Just what is he thinking?_ Renge scowled. She just wished she could see his expression in the dark to have some idea of what he was up to.

Although, sometimes Renge wasn't sure what went on in Kyouya’s head. She doubted it would even matter.

"You kissed me earlier." His voice shot like an arrow through the dark, soft and curious.

She had totally forgotten about that.

"Ha, I thought you were Mori-kun, so don't give yourself airs."

"Are you always so forward?" Kyouya laughed. Renge wondered if she really amused him that much.

She sighed, breaking away from his grasp. "Why hold back? My father always taught me, if you see something you want, take it. Don't let anything get in your way. Strive to obtain it, even if you have walk all over people." She paused. "I think you of all people would understand that."

"Indeed. Though, I'm sure my methods are less whimsical than yours," Kyouya stated.

"Of course they are," Renge said as-a-matter-of-factly. "I have to wonder if you have any fun at all at some of the things you do. You act so..."

"So what?"

"So blasé..." Renge answered bluntly. "You could learn to put a bit more fire into your schemes."

"Intriguing, but I don't think such methods would fit my character." He leaned close to her again. She felt his hair brush against her forehead. "Besides, we have enough fire in this club with you and Tamaki."

"Ugh, stop mentioning me in the same sentence with that dope." She grabbed on his tie, pulling him down and feeling that Renge-fire boil in her blood. "I'm the fire and spirit of this club and only me! Don't you forget that!"

Kyouya cleared his throat which turned into a chuckle. "I won't." She released his tie and leaned roughly against the wall.

"This is so boring. When is Haruhi-kun coming to rescue us?" She clasped her hands together and whined dramatically. "Here I am, a lonely princes trapped with a dragon in the dark castle! Oh Haruhi-kun, my prince, will you come save me from the dragon's fire breath and sharp claws?"

Kyouya laughed at her, and she grunted at him. "You always have ways to entertain yourself, don't you, Renge-chan? Even stuck in this closet."

"What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?"

"I can think of more beneficial things to do while trapped in a closet with a girl," Kyouya replied suggestively.

Renge's mouth dropped, and she wondered if he could see her expression in the dark. Did he just... make a pass?

"I can't imagine you even doing such things," Renge snapped.

"Doing what things?" Kyouya played.

"Don't start that again; you know what I mean," she said, wiggling a finger at him. Kyouya caught her hand, and Renge gasped as he pulled her into him again. Kyouya's laughter was dripping with mystery and seduction. Renge felt her blood turn cold and then shoot up with a feverish blaze. As he leaned in closer to her face, she felt limp and was unable to get her body to protest.

Did she suddenly not want to protest?

Lips lightly touched hers, yet they both jumped back as the door swung open and light erupted in the closet. Haruhi was looking down at them in curiosity.

"Hey, what are you guys doing in here?" She turned to Kyouya. "Kyouya-senpai, I've been looking all over for you." She noticed Renge, and one eyebrow rose in speculation.

Renge felt frozen, and she couldn't even get up from her spot in the closet. Kyouya turned to her, smiling wolfishly before turning to Haruhi.

"Haruhi, I'm sorry to say you just caught us in a very intense make-out session."

Haruhi paled, turning to Renge. The poor girl sputtered gibberish, turning as red as a tomato. She shot up, squealing as she ran from Kyouya, Haruhi, and the closet of DOOM from embarrassment. Rage and humiliation filled her, and she inwardly vowed to get Kyouya back for making a fool of her.

Haruhi looked on with concern. "What was that about?" She turned to Kyouya, who continued to smirk in Renge's direction. "Did that really happen?" She eyed him skeptically.

Kyouya turned to her with ease. "But of course, Haruhi. Why would I lie?"

Haruhi frowned at him, recognizing that familiar mystery in his eyes. She grunted. "Why indeed." She looked toward Renge, who was huddling in the corner mumbling to herself and obviously disturbed. Haruhi sighed, thankful for once she wasn't part of his game.

"Poor Renge-chan," she said finally, knowing from experience that when people played games with Kyouya, the end result was usually unnerving.

END


End file.
